I Hate You
by movingstaircase
Summary: Hermione and Draco are Head Students. Unfortunate circumstances leave them sharing a dorm. And they really hate each other. Right? One-Shot.


**I'm still kind of new at this. Reviews are greatly appreciated because I don't actually know what I'm doing. I own nothing but the plot. Thank you for reading!**

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><p>"Shove off, Malfoy."<p>

"Oh, well, that was below the belt, Granger." Draco smirked, unmoving from the sofa opposite hers.

"I'm trying to work."

"Are my flawlessly good looks distracting you?"

"I thought you had detention tonight!" She snapped, looking up from the Charms essay on her lap. "Go and annoy Filch and leave me the hell alone!"

Hermione looked back down at her unfinished essay, sighing when he showed no signs of moving. She decided the best approach to this situation would be to ignore him and get on with her homework. After all, she was already behind schedule. She snuggled further into the sofa, absorbing the heat from the crackling fire and trying to calm herself.

Usually, the head boy and head girl were lucky enough to be allocated their own dormitories. Usually, at opposite ends of the castle. However, Hermione was never a particularly lucky person.

Madame Maxime had agreed to a student exchange programme, thanks to Hagrid's persuasion skills. Why the teachers thought this a good way to celebrate the first year back at Hogwarts after the war, Hermione would never know. The castle now held seven years worth of Hogwarts students with an added fifteen Beauxbatons. And, unfortunately for Hermione, said Beauxbatons students needed a room. Her would-of-been head girl's room to be precise.

And so, here she was. Hermione Granger, sharing a dorm with the one and only, pain in the arse, Draco Malfoy. It had only been two months and she was already sure she was losing her mind. His constant presence was driving her insane.

Hermione's quill had barely touched the parchment when she heard it.

_Tap, tap, tap._

She closed her eyes, counting to ten in her head and breathing deeply.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Draco sat with his legs kicked out in front of him, resting on the small coffee table in front of the fire and tapping the polished oak with one foot. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed, but there was still a trace of that arrogant smirk ghosting his features.

_Tap, tap, tap._

"Do you honestly take pleasure in being the biggest git in this castle?" Hermione asked, gritting her teeth.

"Yes."

"Please leave before I force my wand down your throat." She spoke sweetly.

"This is _my _dorm. If you're so bothered about spending alone time with your precious books, then I suggest that _you_ leave." He drawled, his eyes still closed.

"This is _our_ dorm, and I have every right to be here since you transfigured my desk into a bottle of conditioner." Her voice began to rise and she glared at him as he finally looked at her.

"I was merely hinting for you to use it on that disaster you call hair."

"I can't believe that _you_, of all people, have the nerve to say that to me!" She fumed. "You have so much gel on your head, I could paste wallpaper with it!"

"Tell me, Granger." He sneered. "Do you take pleasure in being the most infuriating witch in this castle? Or is it one of them mudblood traits you just can't seem to break?"

"Do you expect that name to bother me after all of these years?" She asked.

"I don't expect anything from you."

"Oh, look at that! We actually agree on something!" She laughed with false glee.

"Agree? With you? I wouldn't taint myself with the act, Granger."

"Grow up, Malfoy. The war's over."

Smirk back in place, Draco got up from the sofa and walked behind Hermione, looking over her shoulder as she began to write again.

"Merlin, Granger. Your grammar is terrible."

"Unlike you, I went to school for seven years before I started Hogwarts, so I think you'll find my grammar to be in perfect order." Hermione spat at him.

"Getting a bit flustered there, aren't we mudblood?" He chuckled.

Hermione jumped up from her seat, dropping her quill and parchment to the floor and turning to face him.

"I hate you." She stated bluntly.

"Likewise." He grinned.

"No, really. I hate you. You know, I never thought I had it in me to really hate someone. Like really, _really_ hate them. But, no, you- you've proved me wrong. Well done! You must be _so_ proud. Because I do hate you. I hate you with every ounce of my being! I wish I'd never had the misfortune to lay eyes on you. And I wish I'd never been made head girl, because I don't think I can go another four months without hexing your arse into next year. So, just stay away from me, okay? Don't come near me, don't speak to me, don't even look at me! Just _shove off_, Malfoy!"

With that, Hermione turned on her heel, forgetting her homework, and marched towards her bedroom, staring daggers at the floor. She was just about to turn the doorknob when a hand grabbed her wrist and Malfoy spun her around to look at him. He was red in his usually pale face and his eyes were narrowed.

"How dare you speak to me like that? You filthy mudblood!" He glared at her, she glared right back. "If you think for one minute that I'm happy about sharing a dorm with you, having you walking around tainting everything you touch with your dirty muggle ways, then you must be more deranged than I thought!"

Ignoring the skin contact, Hermione ripped her arm from his grasp and squared up to him.

"Well, you know what you can do if you hate this arrangement so much? If you hate me and my 'filth' so much? Leave!" She fumed.

"Leave?" He laughed.

"Yes. Leave. It's not as if you _need _an education. I'm sure you'll be perfectly happy scrounging off mummy and daddy's fortune for the rest of your pathetic life. I don't even know why you bothered coming back for seventh year. Tell me, Malfoy, do you think you will ever get a job? You know, work? Do you even know what work is?" She smirked at him.

He stared at her, eyes wide.

"I didn't think so."

"You don't belong here!" He growled.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Give it a rest! Haven't you got anything else to insult me with? My parents are muggles, wow, how enlightening!"

"I'm just stating the truth, Granger."

"Yes, well, it's hardly like it bothers me after seven years. You're extremely repetitive. Why not try something new? I don't know, call me ugly, tell me I need to go on a diet? Tell me I'm stupid or that I'm going to spend the rest of my life alone and surrounded by cats! Because the whole 'mudblood' thing got old rather a long time ago."

"Why would I say any of that to you? You just thought it up all on your own." He grinned.

"You are the most irritating person I have ever met! You don't even try to be civil! It's as if you enjoy having everybody hate you! You're just exacerbating this whole situation!" She screamed at him, throwing her hands in the air.

"Oh, not everybody hates me, Granger. Pansy, for example, _certainly_ doesn't hate me." He raised his eyebrows suggestively and Hermione shivered.

"You're disgusting."

"And you're jealous."

There was silence. There was a giggle. And then Hermione laughed. She laughed so hard that she doubled over and felt tears running down her cheeks. She composed herself shortly and looked him in the eye, still smiling widely.

"Jealous?" A chuckle slipped past her lips. "Jealous of what? Of Pansy Parkinson? For being naïve enough to sleep with you? For being with the loathsome, ferret-faced Draco Malfoy? Yes, yes, you're right. You've got me, Malfoy. I'm irrevocably in love with you and I have been for years. I just can't keep my eyes off you!"

Hermione burst into side-splitting laughter again and Draco scowled at her.

"Admit it, mudblood. It's not as if you have the finest selection of males in your life." He have her a smug look. "You're telling me you'd rather have Weaselbee or Saint Potter?"

Hermione surveyed him questioningly. She looked him up and down, from his platinum blonde head to the tips of his finest-of-leather shoes. Then she walked up to him, chest to chest, and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Any day." She smiled, then whipped around and entered her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Draco stared at her closed door. He growled and kicked the heel of his shoe into the floor. He began to pace up and down and then he walked towards her bedroom and swung the door open determinedly. She was stood in the middle of the room with her shirt open, clearly in the middle of getting changed. He caught a glimpse of her simple, white cotton bra and ivory skinned stomach before she grabbed her dressing gown and threw it over her clothes.

"Malfoy! What the hell? Get out! Get out now! You bloody ferret! Get the hell out of my room! Now!" She screamed at him, pushing at his chest to get him to move.

Hormones. That's what he put it down to when he grabbed her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers. The act was so short lived that it was hardly worth calling it a kiss. As soon as his mouth touched hers, she pushed him back with all of the force she could muster, sending him crashing into her dressing table with a thump. Hermione grabbed her wand from the bedside table and pointed it at him, out of breath and completely flustered.

"Have you entirely lost your mind?" She cried. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?"

Draco didn't answer. He just looked at her, trying to ignore the heat flooding his cheeks and focusing on the sharp pain in his lower back from where he'd hit that blasted piece of furniture.

Hermione stared him down and eventually sighed, lowering her wand and looking down at the carpeted floor.

"Please, Malfoy..." She spoke softly, the bite in her voice vanished. "Just leave."

Draco continued to look at her and she let out a cry of frustration when he didn't move out of her room.

"_What _do you _want_ from me?" She asked, her voice desperate.

"I don't know." He answered honestly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You hate me." She stated.

"Yes."

"And I hate you."

"I know."

"Then, why? I don't understand!"

"And you think I do?" He shouted, making her jump slightly. "It's not supposed to be like this!"

"Like what?" She shouted back. "What are you talking about? What on earth is going on in your head?"

"I don't know!" He screamed, moving forward to stand in front of her.

"You hate me." Hermione repeated.

"I hate you more than anyone I've ever met." He seethed. "You're annoying, infuriating, a bossy know-it-all and a filthy mudblood. Just looking at you makes my blood boil."

"And I hate you." She breathed. "You're arrogant, prejudiced, mean and foul. The things that you say to me are vile. I dread classes finishing. I dread having to come back to this dorm and see your smarmy face whilst you lounge in front of the fire. I dread having to see you."

They were close now. Their noses were just an inch from touching and Hermione could feel his warm breath on her face.

"We can't, Draco..." She whimpered.

"I know."

He leaned in until their lips brushed each others. It was feather light with barely any contact, until Hermione grabbed his shirt and pulled him flush against her body. Draco growled deep in his throat and she moaned into the kiss. It was involuntary. Primal. That's what he was telling himself. That's what she wanted to believe. Draco's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her in tighter and her hands fisted in his hair.

The only reason they pulled away was for air. Both of them were panting, completely out of breath.

"I still hate you." Hermione gulped.

"I hate you too."

He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her back to him, bringing their lips crashing back down onto the others. The last thing that either of them wanted in that moment was to let go of the other.

Yes, they definitely hated each other. They were positively and absolutely sure of it.


End file.
